the child's loss, braved duns and all; but I was money-making,
money-making,--retribution for money-wasting; and--well, it's no use
repenting! And--and there is the lodge, the park, the old trees! Poor
Sir Miles!"

CHAPTER XXVI. THE SPY FLIES.

Meanwhile at Laughton there was confusion and alarm. Helen had found
herself more than usually unwell in the morning; towards noon, the maid
who attended her informed Madame Dalibard that she was afraid the poor
young lady had much fever, and inquired if the doctor should be sent
for. Madame Dalibard seemed surprised at the intelligence, and directed
her chair to be wheeled into her niece's room, in order herself to judge
of Helen's state. The maid, sure that the doctor would be summoned,
hastened to the stables, and seeing Beck, instructed him to saddle one
of the horses and to await further orders. Beck kept her a few moments
talking while he saddled his horse, and then followed her into the
house, observing that it would save time if he were close at hand.

"That is quite true," said the maid, "and you may as well wait in the
corridor. Madame may wish to speak to you herself, and give you her own
message or note to the doctor."

Beck, full of gloomy suspicions, gladly obeyed, and while the maid
entered the sick-chamber, stood anxiously without. Presently Varney
passed him, and knocked at Helen's door; the maid half-opened it.

"How is Miss Mainwaring?" said he, eagerly.

"I fear she is worse, sir; but Madame Dalibard does not think there is
any danger."

"No danger! I am glad; but pray ask Madame Dalibard to let me see her
for a few moments in her own room. If she come out, I will wheel her
chair to it. Whether there is danger or not, we had better send for
other advice than this country doctor, who has perhaps mistaken the
case; tell her I am very uneasy, and beg her to join me immediately."

"I think you are quite right, sir," said the maid, closing the door.

Varney then, turning round for the first time, noticed Beck, and said
roughly,--

"What do you do here? Wait below till you are sent for."

Beck pulled his forelock, and retreated back, not in the direction of
the principal staircase, but towards that used by the servants, and
which his researches into the topography of the mansion had now made
known to him. To gain these back stairs he had to pass Lucretia's room;
the door stood ajar; Varney's face was turned from him. Beck breathed
hard, looked rou